The King of Pentacles
by BurningSilence
Summary: Set in the 'Intersecting Fates' universe. How shameful it is when one is face to face with their own deepest desire. Cullen's trials during 'The Broken Circle' are only just beginning. Imagined Cullen/Amell.


**Author: **BurningSilence

**Title:** King of Pentacles

**Rating:** We'll say…R

**Summary:** Set in the 'Intersecting Fates' universe. How shameful it is when one is face to face with their own deepest desire. Cullen's trials during 'The Broken Circle' are only just beginning.

**A/N:** This just kind of came out of the blue one day as I was working on the next chapter for 'Intersecting Fates' and wouldn't stop bothering me. So I thought I'd write it and get it out of my system so I could continue writing chapter four. And…be kind…please? These are among my first truly risqué scenes I've ever written…I'm a little nervous.

**Disclaimer:** I obviously do not own DA:O. That credit goes to the amazingly talented people at BioWare. I'm just messing around with the characters for my own amusement.

* * *

"Ohhh…Cullen," a soft voice murmured, hotly, into the templar's ear.

The man shut his eyes tightly, fists clenched at his sides as he willed the apparition to go away. He shivered when he felt the mage's slight form press towards him, attempting to grind against the swelling manhood he was ashamed to acknowledge was there.

"Stop!" he rasped out desperately, sweat beading on his forehead.

"It's alright," the not-Faustine cooed. "No one will know, Cullen. Your secret is safe with me. We don't have to tell anyone, darling."

He opened his eyes and noticed she was undressed, the purple glow of his prison reflecting off of her skin eerily. He wished he hadn't looked. He wished this demon would just leave him alone. Or at least kill him and get it over with.

As he tried to back away from the spectre, she lowered herself to her knees, staying eye-level to his erection and held his gaze, licking her lips lasciviously.

For Cullen, that was the last straw. He shoved the demon away and scrambled to the other side of the 'cell'. "Be gone, demon!" he shouted, frustrated, and angry…and frightened.

"Hmph," she huffed. "I don't know why you insist on fighting me so," she hummed, transforming back into her natural shape. The violet demon walked around the young templar, gazing at him as if she were trying to see inside of his mind.

Perhaps she was.

Cullen swallowed thickly. Her illusion hadn't been believable enough. Not for him, anyway. He'd known Faustine since she was eight; when she first came to the Circle. She…would never act like that. He sighed, she was too modest for that…too inexperienced.

As soon as he thought it, the desire demon laughed. "Is that what you think? She's away from the Circle now; away from her prison. What makes you think that she hasn't sampled all of the fruits her new found freedom has awarded her?"

He brought his hands to the sides of his head, trying to shut out the demon's voice, and the images that her words had conjured in his mind. Squeezing his eyes shut, he yelled, "I will not listen to your vile accusations! Now be _gone_!"

When he opened his eyes, the demon was gone, at last. He slumped down to the ground, grateful for the small reprieve. Things like this had been going on for _days_. Ever since that meeting the mages and templars had…ever since Uldred revealed himself to be a blood mage…

Cullen wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

* * *

When he next awoke, he found himself in a rather comfortable bed, with an unfamiliar weight against his chest. As he became more fully aware, he glanced down and saw Faustine lying peacefully against him. His movements roused her from her slumber and she smiled sweetly at him, dark eyes glittering. "Good morning, love," she whispered.

Something felt wrong, but he couldn't bring himself to analyze it any farther as he hugged her to him. "Did you sleep well?" he inquired, unsure as to why he couldn't remember anything from the day before.

She made a soft 'hmmm' of pleasure, and burrowed deeper into his embrace. "You seemed like you were having a nightmare," she murmured, biting her lip worriedly. "I was concerned, I don't like it when you're so far away from me," she confessed.

He smiled, and kissed her on her forehead. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine as long as you're here."

"But Cullen," she frowned. "I _do_ worry! What if the Circle finds us? They'll separate us…they'll punish us!"

The Circle? Oh, that's right…they escaped the Circle…and the templars…so they could be together.

But…that didn't sound quite right.

"You just can't do any magic; it'll be easier for them to track us down if you do. Do not worry so much, darling," he found himself replying, tightening his grip around her. She could be sent to Aeonar I they were found.

"Do you love me?" she questioned, her eyes large and solemn.

And _so beautiful_…

"Yes," he found himself whispering. "So much…" he mumbled, grasping her body to his.

She let out a sigh of contentment, and moved to straddle him, gripping his waist tightly with her thighs. He moaned as she settled over his erection, and he began to pump his hips slightly, his hands grasping at her slim hips. She let out a soft cry and sat up, putting more pressure on his groin, and pulled her nightgown off over her head, baring her body for him to stare at, unabashedly.

The templar, (or…former templar?) swallowed thickly. He'd never imagined he would ever have the mage like this…

He let one of his hands wander from her hip, up her stomach, and finally to rest on one of her heaving breasts, fondling gently. Faustine sighed and arched her back, rocking against his arousal, feeling it pulse against her entrance.

She moved her own hands to the front of his small-clothes, freeing his manhood from its confines. She squeezed it slightly.

"Oh Cullen," she murmured as she continued to work his shaft lovingly. "I've wanted this forever…do _you_ want _me_?" she leaned down and pressed her full lips to the fluttering pulse-point at his neck. "Do you _desire_ me?" she inquired, her tone becoming far too saccharine.

Something was wrong.

Faustine was a Grey Warden now…she had left the Circle shortly after Wynne and Uldred…

Uldred.

His mind was suddenly flooded with memories. Wynne and Uldred returning from Ostagar…the meeting…the blood mages…Uldred performing some sort of summoning ritual…

Oh Maker…

"You will not deceive me, demon!" he shouted, shoving her away from him.

She laughed and he was back in his prison, like nothing had ever happened.

And the screams from the Harrowing chamber continued.

* * *

"Would you have really killed me, Cullen?"

"Believe me, I would have taken no pleasure in it," he responded, feeling sick that he'd been chosen for Faustine's Harrowing. "But you know we cannot let abominations escape from the Fade."

The former apprentice nodded, looking subdued. Suddenly she looked up, beaming at him, "I'm glad it was you then. I don't think I would have wanted anyone else to be around for that. I…trust you." She bit her lip, looking away shyly, "You're possibly the only one from the Chantry I can say that about." The mage flushed and began to wring her hands. "I shouldn't have said that,' she chastised herself. She looked around quickly and leaned in towards Cullen.

His eyes widened in shock when she kissed him on the cheek. She smiled at him again, "I just wanted to tell you I appreciate how kind you've been to me."

* * *

"Stop it…_please_!" the templar cried out. "No more…I don't want to see anymore!" Cullen gritted his teeth, he needed to stay strong, damn it! For all of the other's who fell before him…his _friends_. He couldn't buckle like this just because of his…_infatuation_ of all things.

The demon sensed his anger and his weakening mental stability. She could practically _taste_ his madness; thick and sticky, like syrup. She grinned at the thought.

* * *

Harsh breaths and shaky moans echoed in the small, secluded room. When the mage began to get louder, Cullen clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her ecstatic cries. Robes and armour had been discarded carelessly in their haste to wrap themselves around each other. Faustine's robes had been ripped as the result of the templar's excitement to be buried inside the mage once more.

"Shh," he cooed. "You don't want to get into any trouble, do you?"

Through the haze of passion, Cullen could see she understood what he meant. As a mage, _she_ would be the one held accountable for their _extremely_ inappropriate affair. He would be looked at as a victim of her seduction. It would be _her_ fault for his lack of control.

After all, she was a mage.

She buried her face against his neck; an indication she was about to climax. He could feel her tight sheath quivering around him, encouraging him to thrust harder.

To make her _feel_ it.

"You like this, don't you," he whispered harshly, feeling edgy and angry in a way he was unused to. "You like that you make me so desperate…that you've made me violate my vows as a templar…" he trailed off into a moan. "That you've reduced me to _this_!"

She groaned at a particularly vicious thrust and let her mouth curl into a bit of a sneer that seemed off on her usually lovely face, "No more than I'm sure you templars enjoyed watching us in the baths." She breathed hotly into his ear, "Did you enjoy watching me, Cullen? I know you used to watch. I could feel your eyes on me. Trying to hide your interest from the other templars, I'm sure. Did you like watching me bathe myself? Dripping with water…rubbing my hands all over my body…touching myself…"

He couldn't hold himself back anymore; he released inside of her. He gripped her waist tight enough to leave bruises as he continued to ride out the waves of his orgasm, feeling her walls flutter around his softening erection.

He slowly pulled out, keeping his eyes on her flushed face the whole time. Seemingly out of nowhere, he pressed a gentle kiss to a rosy cheek. Cullen let out a small noise of contentment as she nuzzled against him for a moment.

He slid down her body, pressing open mouthed kisses down her throat, collar bone and pausing to suckle at her breast, kneading the neglected one with his free hand. He enjoyed the sensation of the soft, smooth skin against his hands and mouth.

"Ohhh…_Cullen_…"

The templar's brows furrowed. There was something familiar about that…

"I'll not tell anyone you like to debauch young apprentices when no one is looking. Your secret is safe with me, my darling…"

He jerked up, his heart in his throat.

Faustine leered at him, licking her full lips, as if trying to entice him once more.

_It looked so out of place on her_…

"Don't fight it anymore, Cullen…I can give you whatever you want, my love."

"No!" He ground out. "I'll not listen to anything you have to say! Leave me alone!"

The demon frowned, "This is getting old. Soon you won't be strong enough to fight me off." She smirked and got off of the floor. She sidled up to him and ran her hand down to his half-hard member, "Though, I suspect you won't _want_ to fight me off next time."

And she disappeared.

* * *

He was awakened by the sounds of combat, this time. However, they were different than the noises coming from the Harrowing chamber; less screaming, he supposed. When all grew quiet, he heard a man's accented voice remark; "We are ridiculously awesome!" followed by soft laughter.

"You should probably save that for when we finally deal with whatever it is that Uldred's become," a familiar voice stated. "From what I heard from Niall…it was horrible."

"Well…yeah," another masculine voice commented. "I mean, look around. This isn't exactly the product of someone who just wanted to do a little Circle renovation."

The templar's eyes shot to the door when he heard someone trying to open it.

A sigh, "Alistair…I think the door is stuck."

"Why do I always get the grunt jobs?"

"_Please_? If it makes you feel any better, Zevran can help if you can't do it by yourself."

There was a long pause, where Cullen could hear people holding back laughter. One of those persons sounded like…Wynne?

"Get out of my way; I'll open the bloody door."

When the door finally swung open, four people stepped in. First was the man he knew was referred to as Alistair, followed by a blonde elf and then Wynne.

"Oh Maker," Wynne breathed out, noticing Cullen's prison for the first time.

Alistair's eyes widened. "Hey! You might want to get in here!" he called over his shoulder.

Whoever he was speaking to stepped in, apologized for dawdling, but she had thought she'd seen something was just making sure everything was alright.

When she came into view, Cullen scrambled up and felt his mind crack even more at the sight of _her_.

**

* * *

**

**The Suit of Pentacles:**_ Physical aspects: materialism, money, sexuality._

**King of Pentacles:**_ Avarice. Corruption. Vice. Grasping. Materialistic. Obstinate. Tyrannical._


End file.
